


Love and Monsters

by MagentaMacarons



Category: Mystic Messenger (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Rape/Non-con Elements, jumin han is wonderful and i love him
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-25
Updated: 2018-03-25
Packaged: 2019-04-07 20:36:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 13
Words: 13,911
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14089161
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MagentaMacarons/pseuds/MagentaMacarons
Summary: After falling in love with Jumin, MC [Cara] is captured and taken to MintEye.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Takes place after the party in Jumin’s route, but I’ve changed some of the details of the actual story. Let’s pretend the whole ‘Seven and Yoosung take a day trip to MintEye’ thing didn’t happen.  
> Characters all property of Cheritz.  
> MC’s name is Cara.  
> [Fair warning this is gonna be cheesy as fuck in places]

The party had been amazing. Even though you’d spent those three days with Jumin at the penthouse, it felt like you were meeting him for the first time all over again. He commanded the room, the reporters, the guests magnificently. His presence somehow managing to be simultaneously comforting and desperately exciting. 

He’d wanted you to return to the penthouse with him after the party and in truth, you’d wanted that too. But, it made sense for you to return to Rika’s apartment first to collect your things and gather your thoughts. The past ten days had been the best of your life and it was incredible, but terrifying at the same time. What if Jumin realised you weren’t good enough for him when he’d got to know you properly? What if it was just lust and infatuation on his part? What if what if what if. 

He’d sent you home with Driver Kim, asking you repeatedly to call him when you got back.  
“Let me know you’re safe. I won’t sleep if I don’t know you’re safe,” he’d whispered in your ear, sending the butterflies in your stomach into overdrive.  
“Of course” you’d assured, “I would’ve called you anyway.”  
“I love you” said from both sides but the nagging fear remained that he didn’t, couldn’t, mean it. 

Driver Kim left you at the pre-agreed park, and wished you a safe walk to the apartment. He lamented the fact that he couldn’t take you to the door, but V was insistent. Even now, the location of Rika’s apartment was to remain a secret. 

You walked, the night air cool and refreshing after the heat and noise of the party. The blue, silk dress that Jumin had gifted you felt smooth and luxurious still, but the heels were starting to make your feet ache. You kicked them off, and continued barefoot, shoes in hand. The idea of just collapsing into bed felt unbelievably appealing at this point. Tomorrow held so much promise; you and Jumin already had plans to meet and talk about you moving permanently into the penthouse. The thought of it was enough to bring a smile to your lips that lasted until you opened the door to the apartment. 

It was dark. You hit the light switch, and nothing happened.  
“Urgh. Great.” you muttered, under your breath. You rummaged in your clutch for your phone, using the flashlight function to see what you were trying to do. You flick the light switch a few more times for good measure but predictably, the apartment stays shrouded in darkness. 

You decide to leave it until the morning, using the flashlight on your phone to carefully make your way to the bathroom. Calling Jumin will have to wait until you’re in bed. 

“Hello.” 

You spin round, immediately frightened by the greeting. 

“Who’s there?!” you demand, fear running up your spine as you try to point the flashlight in the general direction of the voice. 

“Have you forgotten me so quickly? That’s a real shame, Cara.”

The confusion descends and you can’t think straight. “Forgotten?” Who could you have forgotten? The flashlight picks up nothing and you freeze, unable to think of what to do next. 

Footsteps approach you from the darkness, revealing a tall, slender man. His features hidden behind a black bandana, a shock of white hair atop his head.  
He smiles. 

“I took great pains to get you here. Your party was a success, I see. And you’ve ingratiated yourself with the RFA wonderfully. It’s time for us to go now.”

Great pains? Ingratiated? What the fuck. Suddenly, you realise what this man is talking about. 

“Unknown..?” you ask, timidly. You spin the phone back round to face you and press the “1” key, holding down the call button as discreetly as you can. Jumin will know what to do. You’d said he was already your number 1 and you hadn’t been lying. 

“Of course. Who else?” the man replies, seemingly not noticing your actions with the phone. You hear it ringing faintly and pray Jumin picks up. You back away from him and feel the wall against your back. You must have gone further into the room than you’d thought. 

“Don’t make this difficult. We can do this the easy way, or the hard way. You don’t want the hard way.” 

He reaches for you and grasps your wrist, making you drop the phone. Did it connect? You can’t tell. You cry out anyway, struggling against him, trying to free yourself. 

He grabs your other wrist and slams you against the wall, pressing himself against you. He smells vaguely floral, a pleasant scent in direct contrast with the aggression he’s exhibiting. 

“Aha” he chuckles “I guess you do want the hard way, huh?” 

He forces your hands above your head, gripping them tightly in one of his while the other reaches into his pocket. Drawing out a long hypodermic needle, he ignores your plaintive cries and pleas for him to stop. Plunging the needle into the side of your neck, he releases your hands. 

Everything starts to turn black. You crumple towards the floor, your legs giving out and refusing to support you. You land on the floor beside your phone, and try to reach for it but your hands won’t function. You hear someone calling your name before the world spins out of sight.


	2. Chapter 2

Jumin sat in his penthouse, sipping a glass of wine. He’d already drunk a couple of glasses at the party but another seemed like an excellent way to round off a wonderful day. He waited, impatiently, for Cara to call him. Not knowing how long it would take for her to get back to the apartment was frustrating, even though Driver Kim had updated him that he’d left her at the park as agreed. 

He finished the glass as his phone began to ring. 

Snatching it up, he answered hastily, “Cara?” 

There was no reply. He heard a clatter, did she drop the phone? He chuckled a little, waiting for her to pick it up and laugh at herself for being clumsy. He said her name a couple of times then listened. He could hear noises, a bang and a faint male voice. Then screaming. Her screaming. Begging with some unseen assailant to let her go, to stop. 

“CARA!” Jumin shouted into the mouthpiece, “ANSWER ME!” Another thud through the phone, all he could do was call her name and pray. Then, nothing. The call was ended. 

Fear coursed through Jumin’s veins as he dialled Luciel’s number.  
“Luciel, someone has Cara, where is the apartment? I need to go to her, someone’s hurting her,” the words fell from him as soon as the hacker answered the phone. 

“Jumin? What? Cara? Let me check the…” the sentence hung as Seven checked the camera feed to Rika’s apartment. “The cameras are down.”

“I don’t care about the fucking cameras Luciel, where is the apartment?” Jumin demanded, his voice raised, his heart pounding. 

Jumin’s tone told Seven that there was absolutely no point in arguing. He gave the address. “I’ll meet you there.” 

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The world slowly comes back into focus. How long were you out? You try to assess your surroundings, but all you can tell is that you’re in a car. Your hands are bound behind your back. You taste blood in your mouth, your wrists and back are hurting. It hurts to move your head and your eyes don’t seem to want to focus. 

The man! Who is he? Where is he? You force yourself to sit up and glance at the driver. The man from the apartment, he looks vaguely familiar but you can’t place his face. His white hair is perfectly arranged, he looks remarkably unflustered for a man who just abducted you. 

He seems to sense your movements, and his eyes flick to the rearview mirror. 

“Oh, you’re awake. I only gave you a small dose, just enough to give you a nice little rest. We’ll be there soon.”

“Be where?” you ask, your throat dry and coarse, the words hard to push out. 

He ignores the question, his focus back on the road. You strain against the restraints binding your wrists, oblivious to the ropes tearing into your pale skin. Nothing. There’s no give there at all. You start to beg him to let you go, asking what he wants. There’s no response from the man. He drives, you struggle, and nothing is resolved. 

Thoughts swirl frantically in your head. Where are you going? Who is this guy? He’s the same person who lured you to the apartment in the first place, that much is clear. But why? What’s he planning on doing now? Did your call to Jumin connect? Will he try to find you? Does he care about you as much as you care about him? 

The car stops. The man turns back to look at you. 

“We’re here, love. Stay still.”

You grimace at the pet name and back away to the far side of the seats. You’re not planning on making any of this easy for him. 

The car door is thrown open and his hands are on you. Grabbing at you, pulling you towards the open door. You aim a few poorly-placed kicks at him and he chuckles under his breath, calling you cute. He drags you out of the door and more hands grab you, hauling you to your feet and pulling you towards an imposing building. There’s no time to take in more of your surroundings, other than what appears to be a castle amongst mountains. The hands on you are rough and painful, in such sharp contrast to Jumin’s gentle touches and soft caresses. 

“Where to, Mister Saeran?” one of the newcomers enquires. The white-haired man replies, sending a shiver through you: 

“The basement. She made it hard, so she doesn’t get the nice room. Put her in the cage.”


	3. Chapter 3

The door to the apartment was open when Jumin got there, following Seven’s directions. He ran inside, his face flushed from both rushing and fear, his heart beating in his ears. The apartment was empty, and dark. Seven hadn’t arrived yet. 

“So much for your baby cars Luciel,” Jumin scoffed, trying to break the tension only he could feel. 

He felt around the wall for the light switch, and was unsurprised when it didn’t work. Whoever this person was who had hurt his beloved, he’d planned this well. He used the flashlight on his phone and scanned round the apartment. By the wall, he saw shoes, a clutch bag and a phone. He grabbed the phone and pressed the on button, it asked for a password but the screensaver.. was him. His profile picture. His heart lurched at it. He loved her, he knew he did and he hoped desperately that she’d felt the same even if he didn’t think he deserved her. All he cared about was finding her, and making her his. 

“Jumin?” 

The voice at the door disturbed his thoughts. Seven stepped into the apartment and did the same routine with the light switch that Jumin, and unbeknownst to them Cara, had already tried. 

“Huh. Lights are out. This guy must’ve cut the electrics since he got the cameras as well.” 

Jumin looked back at the other man, shrouded in light from the hallway and sighed. 

“I have to find her. I heard her screaming.” 

Seven could see the worry etched across Jumin’s brow, his normally calm facade broken. He crossed to the kitchen, and found the fuse box under the sink. Tripping the switches threw the apartment into a bright light. 

They both blinked against it, and Jumin stared him down. Seven swallowed, feeling the intensity of Jumin’s emotions and not knowing how to countenance them. It felt like a hollow platitude but he said “We will. We’ll find her, ok? It’ll be alright.”

Jumin carefully picked his way around the apartment. He picked up Cara’s clutch, remembering how she’d held it close to her at the party. Her shoes, remembering how he’d chosen them to look beautiful against her dress. He felt her presence but none of her essence. His heart clanged again, and he pined for her. It’d been mere hours since they were together but the idea of never seeing her again was too much for him to bear. 

Seven watched him quietly, trying to process the situation and think of his next move. Jumin sank to the floor, holding Cara’s phone to his chest. He’d never felt so powerless. 

“There has to be something you can do, Luciel. Check the CCTV or something?”

Seven cringed, knowing his expertise was limited by modern technology. If Cara had been taken somewhere that CCTV didn’t reach, he had no hope of finding her. But, he answered in the affirmative anyway. Jumin’s dejected form was too much for him to look at. 

“Sure, man. I’ll check all the cameras around the building and we’ll find out where she went. It’s gonna be ok.” 

He crossed to Jumin and helped him up. 

“Go home, yeah? I’ll go and see what I can find out, and I’ll let you know everything. Promise.”

Jumin stared at him, his brain working overtime. “Yes. Do that, Luciel. Manpower is not an issue, but I need an idea of where she is before I can mobilise anything. Please find her.”

Jumin didn’t know how to convey to Seven just how much Cara meant to him. He’d known he loved her before any of this had happened, but had it really taken a tragedy to show him that he couldn’t live without her?


	4. Chapter 4

They weren’t joking about this being a cage. 

You surveyed your surroundings without emotion. You were literally in a prison cell. Bars surrounding you, stone walls, and no way out. Your hands had been untied, but that meant nothing when there was no way for you to escape your current predicament. Your wrists hurt. They’d been rubbed raw from the rope binding them and tiny welts made them painful to touch. 

You sat in a corner. Hoping that somewhere, somehow, Jumin had received your call. Or Seven had seen you in the cameras. Or someone had noticed you were missing from the chatroom. You hoped you’d made enough of an impression that they missed you. Had you? Were you worthy enough that anyone would care about you? 

The heavy wooden door beside the cells creaked open. The tall white-haired man entered. What had they called him? Saeran, right? That sounded right. You kept your gaze firmly fixed on the floor even as he slowly strolled round the cell, dragging a cane against the bars. 

“Comfortable?” he asked, the hint of a smirk dancing on his lips. You could feel him staring at you even though you didn’t lift your head. He rapped the cane on the bars, making you jump which elicited a chuckle from him. 

“Oh, you’re not talking to me? How brave you are. How determined.” He continued moving around the cell until he was facing you. You could see his shoes. He dropped to crouch on the floor, taunting you to look at him. 

“Let’s see how long you can keep that up. This is going to be fun!” 

He waited, impatiently. You could feel his eyes boring into you, his frustration starting to grow as he glowered at you. Fear rose up in you, your stomach churned as you wondered which approach you should take. Would it be better to talk to him? Try to reason with him? Or carry on ignoring him and try to plan a way out of here? 

He made the decision for you. Throwing open the door to the cell, Saeran stalked inside and grabbed your hair, jerking your face up to his. Your determination not to show how scared you were deserted you in that action, his smile was maniacal as he brought his face close to yours. You tried to shrink back against the wall of the cell but he held you tightly, his hand wrapped around your long hair. He grinned, pleased with the pain he was obviously causing you. 

It felt like an eternity that he held you like that, though it was realistically only a few seconds. You struggled weakly, but quickly realised that every movement from you just made him pull more tightly on your hair. 

“Just.. what, what do you want?” you stammered. “Is it money?” 

He seemed to know so much about you, had he abducted you to try to blackmail Jumin? 

His face contorted, anger evident in his features. 

“No,” he answered. “We don’t need your money. I’m giving you a very special gift here, you’re going to enter paradise. You can all experience the love that the Saviour has to offer!” 

His voice rose to a shriek at the end, and he yanked you roughly to your feet. He slammed you against the wall, his body pressed against yours and he leaned in close as he whispered “Don’t you want to be saved? This is paradise.”

You shook your head, too afraid to try to form words. His hand was still entwined in your hair and he pulled your head forward only to cruelly smash it back against the stone wall repeatedly. You cried out, seeing stars instantly. 

“We’ll see. Soon you’ll be begging to be allowed to stay here.” 

He shoved you away from him, watching you coldly as you stumbled and fell to the floor holding your pounding head. Your vision blurred, you could just make him out, towering above you. He ran a hand through his white hair, smiling down at you. 

He walked back to the open door of the cell and you exhaled a breath you hadn’t realised you’d been holding in. He paused, seeming to consider his next action momentarily before he lurched back towards you and rained punches against your face. You tried to defend yourself, hands coming up to shield your face from the onslaught but he was infinitely stronger and your attempts were nothing. 

He kicked you brutally in the stomach, the back, the legs. Aiming well-thrown punches at your face seemed to be his favourite though. You could feel the blood gushing from your nose, then a sharp crack and a shooting pain through your chest. It didn’t register at the time that he’d broken one of your ribs. 

As abruptly as he’d attacked you, he stopped. Stepped back and looked down at you, bleeding and crying on the floor. You curled in on yourself, trying desperately to limit the amount of you he could hurt again. Saeran turned on his heel, walked out of the cell and closed the door softly behind him. 

“Only through pain can we find salvation,” he said, gently, as he locked the door and walked away. 

His sudden absence was almost unsettling. You stayed on the floor for as long as you could before finally hauling yourself into a sitting position. The puddle of blood from your nose started to congeal on the floor. It hurt to breathe. You gingerly touched your face, trying to assess the damage he’d inflicted. Everything hurt. Your nose, mercifully, didn’t feel broken. 

You crawled into the corner of the cell and hugged your knees to your chest, ignoring the stabs of pain the motion sent through you. Thoughts swirled around inside your head, how would you ever manage to get out of here? What did he mean about salvation? How the fuck was this supposed to be paradise? You tried to summon an image of Jumin to mind instead, had he realised something was wrong? How long had it been since the party? There were no windows down here to work out whether it was day or night. Would he try to find you when he realised you were missing? That final thought re-opened the floodgates, and you wept.


	5. Chapter 5

Jumin watched the sunrise from Rika’s apartment. He hadn’t left, though Seven had long since departed, promising that he would find where Cara had gone. 

His phone rang shrilly, shocking him out of his trance. He grabbed it up, “Cara?!” he almost shouted into the receiver. 

“Jumin, it’s me,” Seven’s voice was dull, miles away from his usual cheery self. “I’ve checked all the cameras around the apartment and..” he trailed off, unsure of how to tell Jumin what he’d seen. 

“Luciel. Just tell me.” Jumin’s voice shook more than he’d wanted it to. 

“There’s footage of her being.. carried out to a car. She, uh, she looks like she’s unconscious. She’s wearing the dress from the party,” Seven isn’t sure why that would be important but it feels like it is. “The plates are covered, all I can see is that it’s a black sedan.”

Jumin paused, letting the information sink in. All he felt was cold. This didn’t help, all he now knew was she’d been taken against her will which wasn’t new. He’d already known that. 

“Which direction did they go? We need to find that car, Luciel.”

“North, towards the freeway. I’m checking the rest of the cameras to track the car but it’s not quick. I’ve got it heading out of the city but once it hits the freeway, it’s nearly impossible to locate. It’s too non-descript, y’know?” Seven paused. “I’ll find her. I promise.”

The hacker’s words felt hollow. All Jumin heard was ‘nearly impossible’. He felt hope rapidly fading; when the car had hit the freeway, it could have gone nearly anywhere. All they had to go on was a vague direction? Meaningless. He faintly heard Seven continuing to talk in his ear but the words failed to translate to his brain. He only murmured one more thing before hanging up. 

“Call V. He needs to know.”

“I will,” Seven assured. “I’ve left a message in the chatroom as well, for the others. I didn’t know if I should, but I thought maybe they could help. No-one else is up yet though.”

Jumin ended the call without bothering to comment. What could any of the rest of the RFA do? Zen would undoubtedly blame him. Yoosung would panic. Jaehee would wait for his instruction. He had no idea how she could help, but experience told him that his assistant would, at least, work tirelessly to do whatever she could. He sank onto the sofa, lowering his head into his hands. 

Where was she? Was she hurt? What could he do to bring her back to him? 

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Seven listened to the phone’s dial tone for a few moments after Jumin hung up. Shaking his head, he ended the call and called V. He wasn’t surprised, but was still disappointed when V didn’t answer. It was not unusual for the leader of the RFA to miss phone calls but this was no ordinary situation. He left a message, detailing for V what he’d already told Jumin and asking for a call back. He doubted one would come. V had left immediately after the party, without telling anyone where he’d be or when he’d return.

Cracking his knuckles, he settled back into looking at the footage. Whatever he was going to do to find Cara, he was going to have to do it without V’s help.


	6. Chapter 6

"Hello, Ms Co-ordinator.”

Saeran’s voice brought you out of a restless sleep and back into what was now your reality. You lifted your head, which sent your world spinning again. Trying to lean back against the wall of the cell, you glanced up at him. 

“Oops, you don’t look so great,” he teased, venom in his voice. “Looks like you had a fun night. It’s a new day though, perhaps you’re feeling more amenable?” He let the question hang in the air, his irritation obviously growing when you declined to answer. 

“Or not.” He strolled casually around the cell. “Would you like some water?” 

Everything told you the question was obviously a trick. But the allure of water was too great to pass up, and you looked up at him, nodding. The motion hurt but you couldn’t bring yourself to speak to him. Withholding words from him felt like the only power you had. 

He pulled a water bottle from his pocket and shoved it through the bars of the cell towards you, deliberately holding it high up so you’d have to stand to reach it. You pulled yourself to your feet, wincing at the pain in your ribs as you did and took the bottle. Drinking it hurt, but the fogginess in your brain started to pass. As you lowered the bottle, his hand shot through the bars and grabbed a handful of your hair. He yanked your head close to his, taking in your bloodshot eyes, the dried blood under your nose and the bruises forming on your pale skin. 

Smiling at his handiwork, he shoved you away from him and stalked back to the door to the cell. You cringed inwardly and tried to pull yourself into a corner of the cell, already fearing what was to come.   
“You owe me for the water,” he said. 

You felt panic rising up inside your chest, the world constricting with his words. Instinctively, you knew what he meant. You shook your head, trying to curl into yourself as much as you could. 

Saeran chuckled that familiar condescending little laugh, grabbed your face and pulled it up to his. Crushing his lips against yours, he bestowed on you your first kiss. It was rough, painful, the panic adding to your inability to breathe. 

You clamped your mouth shut, trying desperately to pull your head away but his grip on you was strong. His other hand entwined in your hair, holding you in position. You felt his tongue trying to poke through your lips and you clenched your teeth so hard your jaw hurt. His tongue made its way through your shut lips and crashed against your teeth. You ground your molars together, determined not to allow him entry. 

He pulled away from you, fury dancing across his features. 

“Smart little bitch, aren’t you?”

He threw you away from him, making you land painfully on the stone floor. Before you could move, or even think, he was on top of you. He grabbed your wrists and pinned them to the floor above your head in one of his own hands. The other went briefly to your throat, squeezing tightly as you tried in vain to squirm away from him. 

All you could think of was Jumin. How this wasn’t supposed to be how it happened. Your first time shouldn’t be with this monster, as his prisoner, it should be with Jumin. 

The hand left your throat and you heard the unbuckling of his trousers, the tearing of your hose, the ripping of the fabric of your once beautiful dress. You felt his hot breath against your neck, his hands mauling you, the hardness of him against your thigh. You smelt his sweat, your sweat, your panic coming off you in waves. And through it all, his hardened face grinning at you, letting you know that he had won and would have you however he wanted. 

Finally, you found your voice.

“No, please.” 

It was all you could muster. A pathetic little cry to a man who had no intention of listening. 

It delighted him. He bit down on your neck as hard as he could, drawing blood. You felt him growing harder against you as he did it, your pain clearly arousing him. You tried to fight back, twisting from side to side, kicking out at him. He forced your legs open with his body, positioning himself in between your thighs and whispered “Don’t pretend you don’t want this too.”

You shook your head. 

“I don’t, please don’t, I-” 

Your words were cut off as he slammed himself inside you. You screamed, the pain like a red hot poker. Squeezing your eyes shut, you desperately tried to conjure an image of Jumin, anything to try to make it through what was being inflicted on your body. It didn’t work. You could feel Saeran raping you, hear his heavy breathing, his tight grip still on your wrists. 

Falling limp, the tears finally came. That felt more humiliating. You never wanted people to see you cry, and this man had already taken so much from you. It felt like hours before he finally grunted and finished inside you. He pulled out, releasing your wrists and stood back watching you pull yourself into a ball on the floor, still crying. 

“Was that as good for you as it was for me?” he asked, taunting you to reply. 

He re-dressed and calmly walked out of the cell. Locking the door behind him, he paused for a second to listen to what you were whispering to yourself repeatedly. 

”Jumin, Jumin, Jumin.”

Saeran walked to the door, then looked back, offering one final shot.

“He’s never coming for you. None of them are. Even if they knew where to look, none of them care enough to try.” 

He slammed the door behind him, leaving you alone, broken and defeated.


	7. Chapter 7

Jumin’s maid came to collect his plates from lunch, frowning when she saw the food remained untouched. Mr Han had been frantically worried since he’d returned this morning, but she didn’t want to pry into her boss’ private life. 

He’d called Seven 14 times. He’d spoken to Jaehee, Zen, and Yoosung. His calls to V went unanswered. Everyone was incredibly fearful for Cara, but also desperately trying to help. He didn’t know what any of them could do, though Yoosung and Zen had departed for Seven’s house to help him look at the CCTV footage. Jaehee was holding the fort in the office, and Jumin had nothing. 

The penthouse felt vast and empty without her warmth in it. Had it really been less than 24 hours since he’d seen her? The party was only last night, but it felt a million years ago. They should have been on their lunch date, making plans and starting their lives together but instead she was gone and he was useless. 

There’d never been a problem that Jumin Han couldn’t solve and his barely suppressed rage at whomever had hurt his beloved threatened to boil over. He had to find her. He had a wealth of highly trained bodyguards at his disposal, but nowhere to send them. He had thousands of people who he could use to search for her, but no idea where to start. He had never felt so helpless in his life.

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Seven, Yoosung and Zen crowded around the monitors in Seven’s house, scouring image after image searching for the black sedan. It was Yoosung who finally asked the question that everyone had been thinking. 

“Do you think this has something to do with the hacker who sent Cara to Rika’s apartment in the first place?”

Seven lifted his head, his eyes red from too little sleep and too much screen-watching.

“Honestly Yoosung, I don’t know who else it could be. I was tracking them for nearly a week after we met Cara, but they just vanished. If it is them, I’ve got no more to go on than if it isn’t.”

“Didn’t you find anything about their location when you were tracking them?” Zen asked, his features etched with worry. 

“Not really. They were pinging off so many servers that I needed more time to narrow it down, but since they stopped any activity, there wasn’t anything to find. It’s like they realised I was getting close, and changed tactics.” Seven rubbed his eyes, reaching for his PhD Pepper. 

The silence hung in the air. Until Yoosung exclaimed, pointing at the screen, “That’s the car! Isn’t it, Seven? That’s it!”

Everyone peered at the screen, and Seven nodded. “It is. I think.”

“No, it definitely is,” Zen said. “Look, it has a little symbol on the back. Like a little green eye, or something?” He pointed to the original image Seven had screen-capped. “It’s on there, too.”

Seven froze, and half-whispered “I’ve seen that before. How did I miss it to begin with?!” 

He reached past Yoosung on his right, and grabbed the mouse, pulling up the research folder he’d been working on about the hacker. Opening a document, he showed the other men one of the images he’d decoded in his search for the hacker. A large, mint-coloured eye stood against a black background. 

“It’s the same people.” Yoosung said, somewhat redundantly. “That has to be good, right? We already know something about them so we have a head start?”

Seven wanted Yoosung to have as much hope as he possibly could, but he already knew how good and how chillingly mercenary this hacker was. He had Cara. This had probably been his plan from the start, and Seven had made worryingly little progress in tracking him down. When the other hacker had backed off, and his work from the agency had piled up, Seven had just stopped looking. He didn’t know how he was going to be able to live with that if anything happened to Cara. 

Zen saw the fear in Seven’s eyes and spoke quickly, “This isn’t your fault, dude. None of us could have known this was going to happen to her, the important thing is that we keep on working and find her, right? And we will. She’ll be ok.”

Yoosung nodded emphatically, his hand gripping Seven’s arm. “Let’s find her,” he said, his voice much stronger than he actually felt.


	8. Chapter 8

Somehow, you’d slept. There was a blissful few seconds when you woke up where nothing was wrong, where you weren’t hurt, hadn’t been raped. Where you were going to meet Jumin and plan out your moving in with him. 

Those seconds were wrenched away from you when you felt the cold stone under your face, the dried blood between your legs, the pain coursing through what felt like every inch of you. 

You dragged yourself into a seated position, and examined the tattered remains of your dress. You’d felt like a princess in it last night, like you were on top of the world and nothing could ever drag you down again. The crushing reality of your situation hit you as you remembered Saeran’s parting words, that Jumin wasn’t coming. You’d worried before that he didn’t really love you, that he was just infatuated with you because you’d visited him when he was struggling. A love borne of circumstance. 

For the first time, you became aware of a vague whirring sound. You scanned the room, and saw a camera mounted in one of the corners, blinking a red light at you. Almost as if you’d summoned him with this discovery, the door swung open and Saeran stalked in. He must have been watching the camera, waiting for you to wake up. 

You felt utterly defeated as you looked at him. He could do literally anything he wanted to you, there was no way for you to escape and he seemed to hugely enjoy inflicting pain. In his hand he carried a small bottle, filled with a vibrant green liquid. 

He unlocked the cell, stepped inside wordlessly and walked over to you. You cringed away, but he grabbed your face, pinching your nose to make you open your mouth, then poured the liquid down your throat. It was bitter, and made your throat burn. You coughed, feeling your vision start to blur, your mind going hazy. 

Saeran turned, and left as quickly as he’d come in. Your world narrowed to a pinprick, then disappeared completely as the elixir took hold. 

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It had been three days since the party. Three days without Cara. Seven, with the help of Yoosung and Zen, had succeeded in tracking the car out of the city and towards the mountains. It hadn’t come into sight in any of the nearby towns, meaning that it couldn’t have left the mountains. He’d found only one building there, a large castle. She had to be there, didn’t she? 

The exhaustion was clear on the redhead’s face. He’d worked tirelessly for these three days, tracking as many leads as he could, hacking into every single camera to try to find that car. This was the best lead they had, and even if it wasn’t right, they had to go. 

He called Jumin. “It’s time. Get everyone ready, I’ll need to brief them all before we go in.”

Jumin’s voice was strong, despite the fact Seven knew he hadn’t slept any more than himself. 

“We’re ready, come to the penthouse. My team will all be here.”

They hung up. Seven briefly considered calling V, though he’d already done that countless times with no response. He decided there was no need. V was clearly somewhere without signal again. He left a brief message on the chatroom, telling the others that he and Jumin were preparing to go, then left. 

He prayed with every fibre of his being that he was right about this castle. That they would go in and find Cara alive and unharmed, and bring her home. 

Stepping into his baby car, he pushed all thoughts of failure aside and concentrated on the plan. He’d infiltrated hundreds of buildings before, and he had a huge, experienced, team this time. Nothing would go wrong. She’d be ok. Maybe she’d even forgive him for letting this happen in the first place. 

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

For Jumin, the past three days had been the worst of his life. He’d imagined every possible scenario, called Seven tirelessly and had barely slept or eaten. Hearing Seven tell him that it was time had rejuvenated him though, he had to believe that the hacker was right about this and he would get to see Cara again. 

His heart ached at the thought of her. How scared she must be, and what if they’d hurt her? He knew that he would want to kill anyone who’d dared to lay a finger on her. She epitomised everything that was kind, and pure, and innocent in this world and he would give his life to protect her.   
He called his team of bodyguards, all highly trained in combat and infiltration, and awaited Seven’s arrival. 

This was it. He was getting his love back.


	9. Chapter 9

For you, the last three days had been hell. You hadn’t eaten for the duration and felt so weak from that, combined with blood loss and elixir that you’d been forced to drink daily that you could barely stand. Your defences against Saeran had diminished to weakly batting at him when he came near you, which he mocked. 

He’d brought you water a few times. Initially, you’d refused, remembering how you’d had to ‘pay’ for it the first time. He raped you again anyway after your refusal to drink. And again. And again. You’d lost count of how many times he’d pinned you against that cold floor and forced himself inside you. 

There seemed to be no rhyme or reason to his punishments. You weren’t sure if they actually were punishments, since he seemed to be enjoying himself a lot. He’d come into your cell with a mallet in his left hand and a whip in the other, on the second night. 

“Pick a number!” He exclaimed, gleefully as a child on Christmas Day. 

You’d gazed at him dully, the elixir still coursing through you. Your head was pounding and the constant nausea made it hard to focus. 

“Now!” 

“Three” you replied, without effect. 

“Ooh, odds. Odds are… Left! Good choice, good choice.”

He’d barely finished his sentence when he lunged at you, swung the mallet and crashed it down on your left ankle. The pain from the impact was immediate and deafening, and blocked out everything else. You screamed hoarsely, hands instinctively reaching down to grasp your shattered ankle. That sent more hot, searing pain through you so you quickly pulled back, gasping. 

You’d prayed so many times for Jumin to come. Maybe Saeran had been right. Maybe you’d been right in the beginning. Every so often you’d get a small glimmer of hope that he was trying, but the horror of your situation was so overwhelming that you couldn’t cling to it. 

On the morning of the third day, he’d arrived unequipped. He’d smiled at you, before delivering an uppercut to your eye socket that had you reeling and half-convinced he’d broken your cheekbone. He’d beaten you a couple of times a day, so most of your skin was bruised, or cut, or broken. He’d forced the elixir down your throat after that time, and left you collapsed on the floor. 

He returned later that evening. Unbeknownst to you, Seven had finished his briefing and Jumin’s team had departed for the castle a few hours previously. 

Saeran came back, prepared for another game. This time, he toted a blowtorch. 

“What’s your favourite colour?” he asked.

You froze, trying to force your foggy brain to process the question and how to answer. Obviously the blowtorch would correlate to your answer, but how? Was there a right answer? Would fewer letters in the word mean fewer attacks with the torch? That was the best idea you could come up with, so you answered “Red.”

“Oh, no. We were looking for Magenta.” 

Saeran’s familiar cruel smile curved upwards as he stepped towards you. He grabbed your right foot, and in one swift movement, scorched a line from your heel to the ball of your foot. 

The pain was instantaneous and you cried out, weakly. 

“I think we need to write it somewhere, so you can remember it.”

Saeran grabbed the front of your tattered dress and tore the bodice away from your skin. You struggled limply against him, trying to wriggle away from him but he forced you onto your stomach and sat on your thighs to stop you moving. 

Your foot throbbed and you started to beg. The thought of him using the blowtorch on your bare back was too terrifying to contemplate but you had no clue what words would make him stop. 

“Please, don’t do this. I’ll do anything you want, just please don’t” you tried, desperately. 

“This **is** what I want to do.” He stated, his voice making it perfectly clear that there was nothing to be gained by reasoning with him. He leaned in closer to you, whispering into your ear, “I’m going to make you mine.”

Positioning the blowtorch between your shoulder blades, he angled his body so he could write horizontally down your back. As he pressed the button to turn it back on, you heard shouting upstairs. Running footsteps. A gunshot. Saeran froze, looking to the ceiling as if he was trying to see through it. More running, more shouting, though you couldn’t make out distinct words. 

He seemed to re-focus, and brought the flame closer to your back again. Starting to write, he burned a large ‘M’ into your flesh. You screamed then, louder than you had before, part of you hoping desperately that you would be heard above the commotion upstairs. What was happening? This had to be unusual, or Saeran wouldn’t have stopped what he was doing. 

He chuckled at your screaming, pinning your hands to your sides with his knees to stop your weak attempts at thrashing. 

“What a din,” he remarked, almost casually, though there was a hint of apprehension in his tone. 

“Someone must be throwing a party upstairs.”

The running footsteps continued upstairs, and it sounded like they were coming closer. You were sure of it, and opened your mouth to scream again as Saeran crouched back over you to begin his next letter. As he turned the blowtorch back on, the door to the cells flew open and suited men streamed in, guns pointed at the pair of you. 

“Get the fuck off her!” One of the men ordered. 

Saeran’s head jerked back to look at the men, smiled at them and then turned back to you to continue his work. A gunshot rang through the air and you heard Saeran roar as it hit him. He fell backwards off of you, and the men flooded the cell. One of them took off his jacket to cover you with as the others grabbed Saeran and manhandled him out of the cell, his arm bleeding where the bullet had hit him. 

Saeran was screaming at the men, shouting that you were his and none of them were to touch you. Fighting them despite his injury, his ramblings filled the room. Above them, a calm, powerful voice rang out. 

“She is most certainly not yours.”

Jumin! You’d know his tone anywhere. You turned over, hugging the donated jacket around yourself and hauled yourself up. Jumin was glaring at Saeran, his eyes steely and determined. Were it not for the crowd of men dragging Saeran away, you had no doubt that Jumin would have liked to have killed him. 

The men hauled Saeran away within seconds, and Jumin’s gaze fell on you. Immediately softening, he ran the few steps to you and grabbed you in a fierce bear hug. You cried out, the sudden contact painful against the fresh burn wound and your previously broken ribs. He immediately loosened his grip and drew back to look at you. 

“Cara, I’m so sorry. We took so long to find you, I.. Oh, God, what has he done to you?” 

Jumin’s eyes blurred with tears as he took in your bruised skin, littered with cuts. Your pale, drawn appearance. Your shattered ankle, and the fact that your shoulder hung strangely in it’s socket from another of Saeran’s games. Your eyes were haunted, large and somehow still beautiful despite the pain and fear behind them. 

You tried to smile for him, but it didn’t quite work properly. 

“You came for me,” was all you could say. It was enough. 

He scooped you up as gently as he could, trying to avoid hurting you any further and carried you with ease. 

“Everything’s ok now,” he whispered. “No-one’s ever going to hurt you again, I promise.”

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Everything else had happened in a blur. Jumin carried you out of the building, passing countless other men in suits, and robed men being taken outside. Somewhere you heard someone shouting Jumin’s name, and vaguely recognised the voice. 

“Jumin, take her to my car. It’ll be the quickest way to get to the hospital.”

You tried lifting your head to see who was speaking, but the movement hurt. Resting your head against Jumin’s chest, you tried to block everything out except the calming words he was softly whispering to you. 

He gently laid you down in the backseat of a car, then climbed in beside you and settled your head into his lap. You saw Seven launching himself into the driver’s seat before the car peeled away at tremendous speed. Jumin held onto your shoulder so you stayed on the seat, and your eyes met Seven’s in the mirror. He tried to smile at you, but it had an empty quality, much like your smile to Jumin must have done moments earlier. 

“Is she ok?” he asked, his question directed at Jumin though his eyes didn’t leave yours. 

“No.” The reply was simple and left no room for discussion. “Just get us there, Luciel. Please.” 

Seven nodded, then mouthed, “I’m so sorry, Cara,” into the mirror. You smiled faintly back at him, wanting to reassure him but utterly lacking the ability to speak. Everything felt like a dream and you were so afraid if you spoke that you’d shatter it and you’d be back in that cell with Saeran writing his next letter on your back. 

The world swam in and out of focus, you tried to anchor yourself in it with Jumin’s soft whispers, his hand stroking your hair and the hum of the car’s engine. Faintly, you heard Seven speaking into the cellphone secured to the dashboard.  
“Jaehee, we’ve got her, we’re on our way to the hospital… I’m not sure… No… Let the others know, ok? Meet us there, I need to concentrate on the road.”

Everything felt overwhelming, too much was happening at once. You felt your eyes closing against your will, and suddenly there was only the dark.


	10. Chapter 10

You woke up in a hospital bed. A monitor beeped quietly beside you. An IV connected to your hand wove its way up to a drip stand. Was this.. part of the dream? Was this real? 

You slowly scanned the room, looking down at yourself. Your ankle was in plaster, poking out the bottom of the sheets. Everything else was covered with clean, white, linen. You didn’t want to lift it to assess the rest of the damage, you felt numb to everything. Your gaze continued around the room, resting finally on Jumin. Collapsed in a chair, he was fast asleep. His features were relaxed, but he was paler than usual, and he looked like it was the first time he’d slept in days. 

You tried to sit up, carefully. Being quiet to not wake him, and slow to not irritate any of your injuries. The sheets rustled against you and he shot out of the chair, eyes darting to you instantly. He calmed when he saw you awake, and moved towards you. 

“You’re awake,” he said, helping you to sit up and arranging pillows behind you for support. 

“How do you feel?”

You nodded at him, still unsure if speaking would take you out of this. But he looked at you expectantly, needing a verbal response. 

“I’m ok,” you answered, surprised at how weak and hoarse your voice sounded. 

He smiled bitterly, “You’re not. But I know you’re trying to reassure me, so thank you.” 

He moved away from you to the window, obviously struggling with choosing his next words. You’d seen Jumin unsure of himself before but this was different. His shoulders slumped slightly and he looked back at you.

“I’m so sorry.” 

Your brows furrowed at this. What on earth did he have to apologise for? As far as you were concerned, he’d saved your life. 

“What? No. Jumin, please. You came for me, you saved me…” your voice trailed off as you felt tears pricking at your eyes. He couldn’t blame himself, you wouldn’t allow it. 

“I took so long. Seven was searching for the car he took you in, and I couldn’t do anything. I just kept waiting and planning and praying that I’d get to see you again,” his voice broke with emotion and you reached out to him. 

“Come here.”

He sat beside you on the bed and you wove your arms around him. He reciprocated eagerly but gently, careful not to hold you too tight, ignoring the urge to grip you to him and never let you go. 

“You came. That’s what matters. You came, and you saved me. You saved my life, Jumin Han and I’m not going to let you blame yourself for it taking some time.” You could feel yourself shaking against him despite you trying to control it. He stroked your hair and let you compose yourself, sensing that you weren’t finished speaking. 

“He told me you wouldn’t, you know. He said you wouldn’t come. It hurt to hope that you would, when I knew you had nothing to go on. But you did, and I’m going to be grateful to you for the rest of my life.” 

He pulled back from you, and gently cupped your face in his hands. 

“I love you. I’d go to the ends of the Earth for you.”

You wanted to believe him. His face was earnest, and his words were beautiful. The original nagging doubt ate at you but you ignored it. He **had** come for you. He **had** saved you. He was still here. You wondered how much the doctors had told him about what had happened to you. Would he still love you when he discovered how much had happened? 

The tender moment was cut short when Luciel poked his head around the door. 

“Oh! You’re awake! How are you feeling?!” 

His manner was jovial but it felt a little forced. He beamed at you, but hovered near the door, seemingly unsure of himself. 

“I’m ok, Luciel, come in,” you smiled. “I need to thank you as well, Jumin told me how hard you worked to find me and I’m so grateful to you both. I can’t even put it into words.”

Seven’s face softened a little at this. 

“You don’t need to thank me.” He said it quietly, but his smile felt more genuine. “It shouldn’t have -”

“Don’t you dare blame yourself either,” you said, a little more firmly than you’d intended. 

“Both of you, please. This wasn’t your fault. I’m ok.” You hoped that they believed the final part of that statement more than you did. You certainly didn’t feel ok, but your desire to make sure other people were was as strong as ever. 

The tension in the room seemed to dissipate with your words though, and both men visibly relaxed.

“Everyone’s here,” Seven spoke first. “Can I tell them to come in?” 

“Only for a moment,” Jumin replied. “Cara needs to rest.” 

Seven opened the door, and the rest of the RFA filled the room. Jumin stayed by your side, holding your hand, his thumb tracing gentle motions into your skin. 

“Cara!” Yoosung cried, his excitement at seeing you evident on his face. “I’m so glad you’re back, we were so worried, are you ok? How do you feel?” 

“Christ, Yoosung, let her get a word in,” Zen joked, smiling down at you. 

Jaehee smiled too, looking almost as tired as you felt. You imagined she’d been doing the bulk of Jumin’s work while you’d been missing. 

“It’s so good to see you all,” you said, trying to smile at everyone at the same time. Seeing them made you ache, somehow. They were the same as ever, Yoosung talked incessantly, Zen glowed, Jaehee quietly watched and absorbed everything happening. But you felt different. You couldn’t express it though, you wanted them to feel like you were ok so you plastered a smile on your face and kept it there. 

They all expressed how glad they were to see you, how relieved they’d felt when you’d been found. Zen and Yoosung both wanted to make plans to get together as soon as you were feeling up to it. You found their conversation both sweet, and overwhelming. It seemed too incongruous with the last few days. So many people, all smiling at you without a hint of malice, none of them wanting anything bad to befall you. 

Jumin watched you out of the corner of his eye, and after a few minutes of conversation said softly “I think Cara needs to rest for a bit, perhaps we should let her do that.”

Zen immediately went to protest but Seven cut him off, “That’s a good idea, you must be exhausted. We’ll let you rest up.”

Zen and Yoosung both hugged you, as gently as they could. Jumin must have given them some idea of your injuries, since Yoosung’s exuberance didn’t translate to how he touched you. Jaehee wished you a speedy recovery, telling Jumin that she would go back to the office. She didn’t ask when he’d return. 

The trio left, leaving you, Jumin and Seven alone. The two men seemed to exchange something wordlessly, and Jumin stood up from the bed. 

“I’m going to speak to your doctors for a moment, is that ok? I’d like to know how long they intend to keep you here.”

“Of course,” you answered. “As nice as this hospital is, I’m not looking to stay here any longer than I have to!” Your attempt at lightheartedness sounded feeble to you, but they both laughed. 

Jumin kissed your forehead, then excused himself. Seven hung back, still close to the door. You looked at him expectantly, clearly there was something he needed to say but he seemed to be fighting with himself over it. 

“Seven…”

“Cara, I need to say something, and I just need you to listen, please? I know I shouldn’t be asking anything of you right now but I have to say this and-”

“It’s ok, just say it,” you said softly. 

“Ok. Ok, ok. I know you said not to blame myself, but I do. If I’d carried on looking into that hacker in the first place, maybe we could have avoided all this. Or I could have known where you were sooner. I’m so, so sorry. You should never have been involved like this, we shouldn’t have let you go back to Rika’s apartment after the party, I should have been more vigilant..” his voice trailed off and he stood, looking at you. 

You held your arms out to him. He stepped towards you, and into them. The tension in his muscles seemed to melt away, and you spoke, quietly. 

“I meant what I said before, Seven. Don’t blame yourself. I chose to go back to Rika’s apartment. You stopped looking into the hacker because he disappeared. You worked as quickly as you could to find me, I know you did. And you did find me, I’m here, and everything is going to be ok.” 

He pulled back, searching your face. You were intensely aware of how terrible you must look. Your eyes felt swollen, the pain that stabbed you on trying to move your face let you know that you must be covered in bruises. Seven wasn’t looking at that, though. He was looking to see if he could believe you. 

He let out a sigh that neither of you seemed to realise he’d been holding in. Nodding, he smiled at you. It was more genuine than the smile he’d shown you before, and you returned it. 

“Ok,” he said. “I’m going to let you rest, alright? If you need anything, I mean **anything** , just tell me.”

“I will. Thank you.”

Jumin came back into the room. You wondered idly if he’d been listening, since he chose the natural conclusion of your conversation to let himself back in. He’d clearly known that Seven needed to speak to you alone though, so maybe it was ok. 

They exchanged a glance, both smiled, and Seven excused himself. You and Jumin looked at each other, and you extended your hand to him. He came straight over to you, took it, and helped you settle yourself more comfortably in the bed. 

“What did the doctors say?”

“They’re going to keep you in for observation for a day or so. They want you to be re-hydrated and nourished before they let you leave, but it won’t be too long.”

He was sitting on the side of the bed, somewhat awkwardly. 

“Do you think you can sleep?” He asked. 

“Yeah, but can you stay? Here, I mean.”

He bent over, and untied his shoes, placing them neatly by the side of the bed. Settling himself gently, he curved an arm around you and held you against his chest. 

“Always.”


	11. Chapter 11

The time in the hospital passed quickly. The rest of the RFA popped by to visit a couple of times, all promising longer visits once you were home. Home had become defined as the penthouse, by unspoken agreement. Going back to Rika’s apartment filled you with horror. Jumin had already had your belongings collected from there and transported to his home. 

The doctors discharged you early in the morning, after their rounds. Jumin collected a wheelchair from the nurse’s station, and helped you into it. He’d not left your side since you’d arrived at the hospital, choosing to eat the admittedly pretty good hospital food in your room with you. Your ankle was in no condition to walk on, and there would need to be further procedures on it, but for now you were going home. 

Arriving back at the penthouse building brought the same feelings of being overwhelmed that you’d been struggling with since leaving the castle. So many people, greeting you and Jumin, and trying to help. You kept your head down, smiling politely at those who spoke to you, but letting Jumin lead any conversations. 

He took you upstairs and into the living room. Easing you out of the wheelchair onto the sofa, he carefully propped your ankle up with cushions, and looked at you pensively. 

“Do you need anything? Something to drink? I could call the chef and have him cook you something if you’re hungry, though it’ll be time for lunch soon if you’d rather wait. Would you like the television on? Or a book?”

“Jumin, woah!” you laughed, “You sound like Yoosung.”

He laughed in spite of himself. “That was a lot of questions, wasn’t it?” 

“Really was. I’m fine, but thank you. I just want to rest for a while. Did they bring my phone from the apartment? I should probably check in on the messenger.”

Jumin watched you, carefully. He knew there was something you weren’t saying. Your constant stream of “I’m ok” might fool the rest of the RFA but he knew there was something more. What you’d been through must have been terrifying, but you’d spoken to him about the injuries Saeran had inflicted on you, yet there was still something remaining. He made the decision not to push you on it. 

“They did,” he replied, moving across the room to retrieve the phone from where he’d left it to charge. 

“Ready to go. I told the others you were being discharged today, I’m sure they’re looking forward to hearing from you.”

“Thanks,” you smiled up at him. You knew he was waiting for you to tell him what else had happened but you couldn’t bring yourself to discuss the rapes with him. They were too fresh, too raw and too painful. Losing your virginity in that way had shattered so much inside you. It felt like Saeran had taken more than just your first time, he’d marred every experience you had yet to have. Experiences that you’d wanted to have with Jumin alone. 

You turned your attention to the messenger, logging in quickly and trying to immerse yourself in the chatter. You didn’t need to read the past messages to know that most of them would have been about you. Yoosung was talking about a new LOLOL skin that had been released, with Zen gently mocking him for being so obsessed with the game. It was a totally normal conversation but trying to insert yourself into it was proving difficult. 

Jumin watched you for a moment, before kissing your forehead and murmuring, “I’m going to shower and change, ok? Shout if you need anything, I won’t be long.”

You nodded at him, “Sure, no problem” at the same time as Zen realised you were logged in. 

[Zen: Yoosung, quiet for a second. Cara’s here! Hey Cara ^^]  
[Cara: Hey Zen, Yoosung~ How are you guys?!]  
[Yoosung: Cara!!!! Welcome back~]  
[Zen: I’m great, pretty lady. How are YOU? We missed you. Jumin said you’re home now?]  
[Cara: Yep, I am. Sooo happy to be out of the hospital lolol. I missed you guys too!]  
[Yoosung: Are you feeling better?]

You let the question hang for a moment. Answering truthfully wasn’t an option. You were trying to be as normal and light as you could, but it hurt to lie to them. 

[Cara: I am, thank you for caring. My ankle hurts still, but it’s definitely on the mend ^^]  
[Zen: Good! Is Jumin taking care of you? He better be!]  
[Cara: Haha, of course he is. He’s been amazing.]  
[Yoosung: omg you guys are so cute]  
[Zen: … yeah. That CEO-in-line couldn’t be cute if he tried. Cara certainly is though!]  
[Cara: Lolol, thanks Zen. I only really dropped by to say hey, so I’m going to get some rest before we have lunch. Great seeing you both ^^]  
[Yoosung: Rest up Cara! Byebye]  
[Zen: Speak to you soon!]

You signed out of the chat, amazed by how exhausted you felt from trying to maintain the facade. You could hear the shower running in the bathroom, and guessed Jumin was likely to be a while. Being alone after the time in the hospital with him constantly there felt strange. Maybe you should sign back in, talk to Zen and Yoosung some more. Your finger hovered over the log in button, but you couldn’t bring yourself to tap it. You’d have to joke and laugh and pretend, and it felt like too much. 

Maybe you should do what you’d claimed, and try to sleep.


	12. Chapter 12

The rest of the day passed quickly, and uneventfully. Jaehee dropped by with some files for Jumin to sign, and the two of you chatted briefly. It was easier to pretend with her, she didn’t do the exuberant shows of emotion that the others did and seemed to content to keep things simple. 

You missed the look that she exchanged with Jumin on her way out though. A knowing look that said “She’s not ok.”

Jumin helped you into the bath after dinner, settling your plastered ankle on the side of the tub to keep it dry. You’d washed in the hospital, but it hadn’t done much to make you feel clean. His quiet gasp as he helped you undress reminded you that he hadn’t seen the full extent of your injuries. The M burnt into your back was covered with gauze, which the doctors had instructed Jumin to change daily. 

He lifted you into the tub without comment, but the sad look in his eyes betrayed him. 

“It.. looks worse than it is,” you tried, feebly attempting to make him feel better. 

“No, it doesn’t.” 

You dropped your eyes at that. He was right, after all. The pain medication the hospital had given you was good, so nothing hurt too much anymore. It didn’t do much for the soreness though, and it did nothing at all for how you felt inside. Even though the injuries had started to heal; cuts were scabbing, bruises were beginning to fade, your shoulder had been re-aligned.. it all felt fresh. 

He hovered indecisively, looking at your face, the rest of your body obscured by bubbles. “Do you want me to help? Can you manage?”

“I can manage, but I think I’ll need your help to wash my hair.”

“Not a problem, call for me when you’re ready, ok?” 

Jumin left you to soak in the tub. He sat on the edge of the bed, and let his head fall into his hands. The beatings that man had left on his beloved’s tiny frame seemed to be etched into his brain. The cuts, the bruises, the gauze covering the burns on her back and foot. He’d have to see that soon. He needed to be strong for her but the brutality of it threatened to overwhelm him. The image that haunted him the most were the fingertip sized bruises on the insides of her thighs. 

He wasn’t sure how long he sat there, lost in his own thoughts but he was started out of them at the calls of his name from the bathroom. He darted back in, forgetting that he’d told you to call for him to wash your hair. 

“Ready!” You smiled up at him, shampoo suds in your hair. “I couldn’t reach the shower head, could you..?”

“Of course,” he replied softly, grabbing it, and carefully washing the suds away down your back. He tried to shield the gauze with his hand to keep it dry, but failed. “We need to change the dressings as well when you’re done in here.”

“Oh. Yeah.”

“Do you want to stay in the tub a bit longer?” Jumin asked.

“No, thanks. I’m done.” Lying in the bath hurt more than you’d like to admit. The hard angles of the tub pressing into the bruised parts of your skin, you wished you could shower but that was a pipe dream whilst your ankle was still so damaged. 

Jumin helped you out, quickly wrapping you in a huge, fluffy white towel. He sat you on the edge of the tub, and leaned over you to drain the water. Grabbing the dressings the hospital had given him, he quickly washed his hands and peeled the old dressing from your foot. He wasn’t sure why he’d tried to keep the other one dry when this one had been in the water. 

The burn on your foot looked nasty. Painful and inflamed. He applied an antiseptic cream which made you hiss at the stinging cold. Looking at you apologetically, he gently applied the dressing and patted it onto the surrounding skin to make it stick. 

He moved round the side of the tub, and lowered the back of the towel to see the other gauze pad. You tensed when he touched you to remove it. You hadn’t told him why there was an M burnt into you. You hadn’t mentioned Saeran’s mind games. Talking about them felt worse than describing your physical injuries. You felt partly to blame for these. If you’d guessed ‘magenta’ instead of ‘red’, he might not have done this. If you’d guessed an even number instead of an odd, you might not have a shattered ankle right now. It was your fault. 

Jumin noticed you flinch, and immediately drew back. 

“Did I hurt you?” he asked, voice tinged with concern. 

You brushed it off immediately, deliberately keeping your tone light. 

“No! Not at all, your hands are cold.” You giggled a little at the end, hoping that your teasing tone was enough. 

It wasn’t, of course. Jumin saw straight through you, in the same way he had for the past few days. He couldn’t bring himself to push you on it though, so he apologised and rubbed his hands together vigorously before putting them back on you. 

“Better?”

“Much!”

He removed the gauze as gently as he could, trying not to tug on your skin too much. He reached for the antiseptic before properly looking at you, and when he turned back he froze. M? What? Why would this monster have burnt an M into you? Part of his brain remembered what Luciel had told him about the organisation, Mint Eye. That must be it. He’d been writing the name of that place on you, marking you with it. 

He didn’t know the name of the man who’d done this to you. He’d thought it was safer that way, since he wouldn’t then be able to hunt him down. His men had taken him straight from the building into the custody of federal agents. He supposed Luciel would be able to find out who he was, but perhaps his name began with M? 

He realised that he’d been still for too long when you quietly said his name. 

“Sorry,” Jumin said. “The antiseptic would have been cold too, so I was.. warming it.”

You could see through his lies in the same way he saw through yours. Turning to face him, you took in his ashen skin and the sadness in his eyes. 

“It’s an M.” You said simply. 

“Yes,” was all Jumin could think to reply. Hoping that if he said as little as possible, you’d open up to him. 

“It… it was going to be a word. Magenta. He.. um. He, played games.”

“Games?”

“For this one, he told me to pick a colour. He had the blowtorch in his hand and I thought maybe that the fewer letters in the colour, the better. You know? Maybe he’d burn me once for each letter? But he didn’t. He said magenta was the right answer so he was going to write it so I’d remember.” The words fell out of you in a rush. 

Your words stabbed at Jumin’s heart. Not the fact that it had happened, heartbreaking though that was. No, it was the fact that you’d tried to play this game. Tried to apply logic to an entirely illogical situation. The fact that you’d had to think in any way of how best to limit the damage to yourself was enough to make him want to call Luciel right now, tell him to track this sonofabitch down and murder him himself.

His train of thought stopped when he saw you looking up at him. Your wide eyes glistened with unshed tears, and something else. Fear? What were you afraid of? 

Your next question answered that for him. 

”Do you think.. do you think it was my fault? The games. The tests. I should have thought more, I tried but I didn’t-”

He cut you off, his voice rougher than he’d intended. “NONE of this was your fault.”

Clearing his throat, he carried on. “I mean it. None of what happened to you was your fault. He would have done these awful things regardless of what you said, or did. Nothing you could have said would have been the right answer. If you’d somehow guessed ‘magenta’, he would have found another reason to do this to you.”

You nodded slowly back at him. His words made sense, but you couldn’t shake the idea that you could have changed how things happened. 

“It wasn’t in your control,” Jumin continued, seemingly reading your mind. “Do you want to tell me about the other game?”

“Yes. But not right now, ok? Can we just finish this and go to bed?”

“Certainly.” Jumin re-dressed the burn wound, helped you to dry your hair and get ready for bed. He lifted you to the bed and set you on it before returning to the bathroom to get changed. He hesitated slightly at the foot of the bed to look at you. He desperately wanted you to tell him everything else that had happened. Not because he wanted to know, but because you needed to say it. 

He settled himself beside you, on his back. You moved into his arms instinctively, and he gathered you into his chest. Listening to his steady heart beat was calming, and you placed one of your hands over it. 

The silences between you were always comfortable. Jumin wanted to break this one though. He thought that if he left it until the morning, you’d have changed your mind on telling him what else had happened. He was never normally a man who was lost for words, but he was so afraid of making anything worse for you that he was struck mute. As it happened, you initiated the conversation. 

“The other game was how my ankle got hurt.”

Jumin looked down at you, your head buried into his chest and lifted his hand to gently stroke your hair, encouraging you to continue. He could feel you shaking against him, and placed his other hand over yours on his chest.

“He came, with a mallet and a whip. One in each hand. He told me to pick a number and I chose three. I don’t really know why. My brain just threw it out. He said that odds meant left, and the mallet was in his left hand. So..”

Your voice trailed off. Jumin paused, not quite knowing what to say. “That wasn’t your fault either.”

You nodded, not really in agreement but more in acknowledgement that he’d spoken. The silence fell again. Jumin knew there was more. You knew there was more. But you couldn’t say it. 

After a few moments, Jumin realised that you weren’t going to continue talking. He squeezed your hand slightly, prompting you to look up at him. The unshed tears glistened in your eyes again. He knew that what you had left to tell him would most likely be what unblocked them. 

“Are you ready to go to sleep?” he asked, giving you a way out of the conversation. 

You nodded gratefully, and watched him turn to switch off the light. He drew back to you and wrapped you in his arms, lightly kissing the top of your head as he did. 

“I love you. Sleep well.”

”I love you too.”


	13. Chapter 13

_“You owe me for the water.”_

_No._

_Back in that cage, with Saeran’s tongue trying to force it’s way into your mouth, his hands groping you._

_Back on the floor, one hand on your wrists, the other on your throat. Then the noises, the smells, his hand unbuckling and ripping.  
Back feeling him pressed against you, hearing yourself beg and plead and cry. Feeling him force his way inside you, tearing and hurting and invading. _

_Smelling him. That musky smell, his smiling face, his words so crude and twisted._

_“Was that as good for you as it was for me?”_

_No._

_Screaming. Jumin, Jumin, Jumin. He’s never coming for you. Jumin, Jumin, Jumin. None of them are. Jumin, Jumin, Jumin. None of them care enough to try._

“Cara!” 

“Cara, wake up!”

You could hear screaming. Someone was holding your shoulders. Oh God, no. No, please. Not again. Please. Who was screaming? 

“Cara, wake up. It’s me, it’s Jumin.”

You tried to push the hands from your shoulders as your eyes shot open. You were twisted on the bed, the sheets knotted under you, your head close to the edge of the mattress. Jumin bent over you, his hands on your shoulders, his eyes wild with fear. 

Within seconds of you pushing at him, he’d pulled back. You couldn’t breathe. You were certain you were about to vomit, before he moved back into focus and spoke. 

“You were dreaming. It’s ok, I’m right here. You’re safe, you’re home.”

You looked up at him, trying to breathe properly but failing. He held your hands, and placed them against his chest. 

“Breathe in… and out,” he said, quietly. You copied him. He repeated this until you’d calmed enough to manage on your own. He lifted you, smoothing out the sheet beneath you and laying you back on the pillow. Satisfied that you were calmer, he whispered “I’ll be right back,” and darted into the bathroom. Emerging seconds later with a glass of water, he lifted your head to help you drink from it. 

_“You owe me for the water.”_

“No!” It was too fresh. You could still smell Saeran, somehow. You could hear his voice whispering in your head. 

Jumin pulled the glass back instantly. “I’m sorry. I just thought.. you were screaming. I thought your throat would hurt.”

The incongruity between the two situations felt like it was going to make you fracture in two. Jumin was a world away from Saeran. You trusted him implicitly. You knew he would never hurt you, but that voice whispered. 

“No. I’m sorry,” your voice sounded weak and pathetic to your ears. Jumin thought you sounded tortured. You covered your face with your hands, and he swiftly got back into the bed, pulling you close to him. 

“I have to tell you something, I think.”

“It’s ok. You don’t have to-”

“I think I do.”

“Ok,” Jumin nodded. His nod was meant in agreement as well as acknowledgement, unlike the ones you’d given him earlier. You’d clearly dreamed about whatever you’d been holding back. 

“He.. he gave me water. I think it was the first morning I was there. He said something about a fun night, so it must have been. He gave me water through the bars. Then he.. he said that-”

You trailed off, breath hitching in your chest. Could you say this? Would he hate you afterwards?

“He said I owed him for the water.”

Jumin’s heart felt like it stopped. 

“He came in the cell, he tried to kiss me except it wasn’t a kiss because it wasn’t done out of love. It hurt and he kept pushing, and I tried to stop him. He pushed me over and he held onto my wrists and he ripped the dress you bought, I tried to make him stop, I did. I told him not to and I kicked him, and I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t say sorry.” Jumin’s voice cracked a little and you looked up at him. “Don’t. You didn’t owe him, this wasn’t your fault.”

“I should have tried more, I should have fought him more. I was a.. a.. it was my first time and I wanted that to be with you, so I **am** sorry because I’m not the person you deserve now. The next time he brought me water, I wouldn’t drink it and he did it again anyway.” Your voice dropped to a whisper, “He raped me again anyway.”

You didn’t realise you were crying until you felt Jumin wiping the tears from your face. 

“Please listen to me. You didn’t cause this. He did this to you. You’re not to blame and you have nothing to apologise for. You didn’t deserve this. **I** don’t deserve **you**. You’re the same person I fell in love with.”

“I mean it,” he continued, as he cradled your head, your tears now free-falling onto his chest. “I loved you before, I love you now, and I will love you forever. You deserve everything that is wonderful in this world, Cara, and I intend to give it to you.”

“I love you too,” you whispered, your voice muffled by his chest. “I never thought I deserved you, Jumin. He told me you weren’t going to find me and part of me thought he was right. I thought that I wasn’t worth it.”

“You are. You are worth more than anything to me.” Jumin’s sincerity spoke louder than his words. He held you against him, as gently as he could so as not to hurt you any further. “I promise you, no-one is ever going to hurt you again.”

He brushed your hair back from your face, trying to encourage you to look at him. You didn’t seem to need words to pass between you to get the message, and you looked up. He wiped the rest of the tears from your cheeks, and kissed your forehead. It was one of the few places on your face that didn’t look like it would be painful to touch. 

He gazed at you for a long moment, until he felt satisfied that the tears had stopped. You attempted to smile at him, and he whispered “You never need to put on a front for me. It’s ok not to be ok.”

“I know. I’m not sure why I do it. I always have done, I hate worrying people. And you’re so important to me, I need to be sure you’re ok.”

“I’m ok,” Jumin replied, reassuringly. “Let me take care of you. I’d be more worried if I thought you couldn’t be honest with me, really.”

“I will,” you stifled a yawn and Jumin chuckled kindly. His laugh was musical, unlike the cruel harshness that Saeran’s tone had. 

“Do you think you can go back to sleep?”

“Yeah,” you settled yourself against his chest again. “Thank you.”

“What for?”

“Just.. being you. And being here.”

“Thank you for being you too.”

Sleep came to you remarkably easily. It wasn’t a cure, and Saeran’s games and torments would not be easily forgotten but for now it was enough. Jumin’s words stayed with you, guiding you into more pleasant dreams, ones where the future didn’t have to be contaminated by the past. 

It was enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story is super personal and I really wrote it as catharsis, so although I welcome critique since I'm obviously not a great writer, please don't be too harsh! Thanks for reading if you made it this far.


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